


love you more

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson is in awe of Daisy, Daisy is flawless, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Love Confessions, POV Phil Coulson, quake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Written for the Johnson & Coulson fanworks exchange: Prompt = "Coulson admiring Daisy being able to shake the world apart and how glorious it is that someone like her has so much power and yet is so wise and good, and probably him looking at her and thinking all of this about her and then finally telling her?"





	

He doesn’t fall in love when he sees her cross the skies, fly propped by the strength of her own vibrations; he had only caught a glimpse of this before, through tv cameras, but he has never seen her do it live. She is like one of the heroes from his childhood, the comic books, the lunch boxes. The heroes from his father’s era, the trading cards and radio serials. The ones who seemed out of reach, mythical - not human. But Daisy is close, within reach for her, and all too human. 

He doesn’t fall in love when he sees her come down from the roof, all that energy used to soften the impact, after taking one of the threats up there. To be in the presence of so much power, its capacity for destruction nullified by the material of Daisy’s soul, her kindness, the wonderful things in her mind. The way she takes a moment after landing, gathering herself, and then lifts her head, hair in her face, eyes decided, ready to continue - to finish - the fight.

He doesn’t fall in love when Daisy saves over two hundred people that night, and the lack of resentment when news outlets that have spent years calling her “monster”, “aberration” and other words that make Coulson’s blood boil in ways he doesn’t understand, now thank her and type in graphics in their news items that call her the “hero of the day”, the way their voices have changed from fear to awe when they pronounce _Quake_ , the way Daisy walks past them with a tired look in her eyes, because she knows that might change tomorrow; the way she stops and answers a couple of questions anyway.

He doesn’t fall in love when he sees the blood, running from her eyebrow and down her cheek like red tears, but even though he knows it’s just a scratch Coulson can’t help but feel a pang of terror in his heart, the residue of many times when it wasn’t just a scratch, the memory of her dying in his arms, for example, among many examples, and it always hurts to see her hurt. He watches as the young paramedic -who clearly didn’t know she was going to be treating a superhero tonight, it shows in her nervous smile and overattentive hands- stops the bleeding. He doesn’t fall in love when he hears Daisy’s profuse and genuine and humble words of thanks.

“Are you okay?” Coulson asks when he walks up to her, still sitting on the edge of the ambulance, watching all the other wounded being treated.

“Yeah,” she answers in a coarse voice. The night is closing in on them, cold and damp. “I just want to go home.”

He doesn’t fall in love when he hears her say _home_ like that, but he could.

Back in the base he can’t find her for a moment. He thought she’d go straight to get some rest, but the door to her bunk is open, and it’s empty inside. Everyone else is already asleep. He eventually finds her at a table, on the common room. Sitting cross-legged on a chair, clothes comfortable, fresh blood still visible under the stitches on her forehead, staring at her computer screen with intensity. She is doing that thing she does when she is working hard at her laptop, biting her bottom lip and then letting it go, moving her lips like she’s talking to herself. Coulson could fall in love with that too.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Daisy looks up. “Monitoring hospitals in the area of the attack,” she explains. Coulson gives her a questioning look. “To monitor their patients? And it’s not easy, I tell you. They don’t write _Alien rocks fallen on head_ in the medical charts. Who knew. But I got a list of everyone in the scene off a local news channel.”

By “got it” she means hacked some journalist’s mail or something of that sort.

Coulson stares at her. Daisy looks away and goes back to typing, as if she had done something wrong, because he is looking at her like that, and he’s not talking. 

He is looking at her like that because this is when he falls in love, he thinks.

“You just saved the lives of 213 people and now you are hacking the hospitals’ databases to check they’re okay?” he asks, still stunned.

She shrugs, gaze back on the screen.

“Well… yeah. Some of them had serious injuries, I was worried.”

“I love you.”

He should be able to tell her all the other things - about her power and her bravery and her soul and how everyone who crosses her path is privileged to have met her even if for a brief moment - and not this one little thing.

Daisy freezes. And then she looks up. Carefully seizing Coulson up. Carefully careful careful...

“...okay. That’s, that’s _nice_ ,” she says. Then she tilts her head, the eyes narrowing a bit in suspicion. “Okay but… Do you love me as in _Hey, there goes Daisy, I love that gal_ , or do you love me like-?”

“More,” Coulson replies. “I love you more than that. I love you as in _I’m in love with you_.”

A smile spreads on Daisy’s face in such a warm and open and surprised way that it makes Coulson fall for her again. Will it ever stop? Will he keep falling and falling, an eternity crossing the skies? He doesn’t have a way of softening his own landing, like she does. He doesn’t care.

“I love you,” he repeats, like an idiot.

“Great,” Daisy says. “That’s… _a lot better_ than nice.”

Maybe he started falling years ago.


End file.
